


NECTAR

by winluvr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blowjobs, Getting Together, M/M, Marking, Pining, Porn With Plot, Roommates, not beta read we die like men, senpai kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26836612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winluvr/pseuds/winluvr
Summary: “You are driving me insane, Sakusa. One of these days you're going to drive me off the rails and I’m afraid that I just might let you.”Sakusa Kiyoomi shows up and rekindles the flame that has been burning in Iizuna Tsukasa's little heart since they were in high school.
Relationships: Iizuna Tsukasa/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Kudos: 37





	NECTAR

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. again, this is not beta read (like any of my other works)  
> 2\. purely self-indulgent  
> 3\. timeline and details are a little wonky, bear with me  
> 4\. i hope you enjoy this, iizusaku nation :>

O, to take what we love inside,

to carry within us an orchard, to eat

not only the skin, but the shade,

not only the sugar, but the days, to hold

the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into

the round jubilance of peach.

— Li-Young Lee

Iizuna Tsukasa meets and re-meets Sakusa Kiyoomi a few times in his life and every time he meets him, Sakusa somehow manages to render him speechless. How long had it been since he met Sakusa,much younger and more naive and curly-haired and sweet-faced, for the first time? They had held matching lint rollers and the same surprised expressions on their faces. And how long had it been since he had winded up on the same team as Iizuna? He had still been curly-haired in his first year of high school, although certainly a little less sweet-faced when he became the up-and-coming ace of Itachiyama.

Iizuna had spent years watching his junior grow up into the ace he is now, playing for the MSBY Black Jackals with what would grow to be referred to as the monster generation and receiving strong spikes from opponents from all over the world. He had been so persistent back then, refusing to come home until he had mastered his spike, a new form he had been trying out where he used the full range of his wrist. His cousin Motoya had to physically drag him out of the gym just so Iizuna could lock up. Motoya had rubbed the back of his head and smiled at him sheepishly. Sakusa hadn't given him so much as a passing glance. It had been a curious, almost scrutinizing gaze, the same kind he gave to other people, although it hadn't been unkind. He had watched that same boy on television and he found his mind flitting back to past memories and wondering how he could have possibly been on the same team once with Sakusa.

Iizuna didn't really seem to think of his former teammate all that much until he found himself breaking his knee just two years after being recruited to the Deseo Hornets. He had been devastated then, when the doctor showed his results and told him that there would be a very small chance that he would be allowed to play for their team again. Very small, to Sakusa, would mean miniscule. Very small, to Iizuna, would mean just a very, very, very low percentage. That may or may not be the same, so Iizuna finds himself giving volleyball up after striving at it for so many years. He leaves his old Best Setter Award from middle school at his grandparents' house. He packs up his things and after a tearful goodbye from his junior Kai, he travels all the way back to Osaka, away from everything that haunted him.

Life had seemed like a string of so he had to say goodbye to his old apartment and his teammate whom he lived with because it reminded him too much of everything, and so he tries to find an apartment in the middle of nowhere. He tries to find one that is cheap enough, just cheap enough that he wouldn't have to pour half of his savings into rent, just cheap enough that he wouldn't have to cut back on his food intake. Food is always a good thing to have when you're lonely and it feels like the world is against you. Iizuna had been replacing the fruits in his basket when the door knob of his apartment rattled.

A visitor, maybe, but who could it possibly be? Iizuna had tried to rack his mind for possible suspects, but he came up blank. All of his friends lived in Tokyo. His parents lived ten minutes away from him and it's not like he was close enough with any of his cousins. He had his hands on a peach, a particularly perfect and juicy one, when one knock echoed through the walls. Another knock, and Iizuna rushed to open the door. He placed the fruit down on the wide bamboo tray.

The door flings open to reveal... well, who would have guessed? It's Sakusa Kiyoomi in the flesh, all sturdy bones and soft flesh and red blood rushing through his veins. He's standing in front of Iizuna and he looks older than when Iizuna last saw him. He's softer than ever, taller than ever. Although at the same time, he looks a little younger than before, a little rougher around the edges, smaller and smaller to the size of the boy-shaped hole in Iizuna's heart. Iizuna feels tight-throated as he looks at Sakusa and feels the memories that he had tried to bury long ago come rushing back. Iizuna opens his mouth to speak, but Sakusa beats him to it. “Iizuna-san, I was looking for an apartment.”

A beat passes before Iizuna realizes the truth of the matter. “Sakusa, it's nice to see you again.” Sakusa nods curtly. “Wait, you're the one who applied for the listing?” Sakusa nods again, and Iizuna cannot help but look at him incredulously. “But your name there said—”

Sakusa cuts him off, his palm against his temple. “Nevermind what my name said. All that matters is that I'm here now.” Iizuna looks at him still. “I was scouting for a good apartment. You know I couldn't possibly give out my name to all those people on the marketplace. I have a reputation to protect as a professional athlete.” He pauses. “I mean, I tried to look for apartments in Osaka. Scrolled through all of those names and bam, I found you. I thought I would be better off living with someone I actually know.” Iizuna does not register this at first, until—

It hits him. Sakusa still recognizes him up to now. He would still be able to pick him out of a group, look for him in a jam-packed room. Sakusa Kiyoomi, first-string hitter of the MSBY Black Jackals, had chosen his apartment to live in, because he trusted him enough not to give away his location to rabid fans. Maybe, just maybe, Sakusa trusted him enough to keep their home clean and safe of any bugs.

Sakusa tries again for a response. “And I'm offering a lot of money anyway.” He kicks at an imaginary rock on the marble tiles. “It's not like I'll be living here and taking up your space for free.” That might have been alright with Iizuna, but instead he nods. “So... what have you been up to these days, Iizuna-san? Have you been taking care of yourself?” He pauses for a beat again. This time it's a longer one and Iizuna tries not to squirm in discomfort. He looks back down at Iizuna's knees. “That's a stupid question to ask you. I'm sorry.”

Iizuna laughs, trying to seem light-hearted. “It's okay, Sakusa-kun~” he says, reverting back to his old nickname for the younger boy. It earns him a scowl, though it resembles one of Sakusa's much fonder expressions than the scowls he reserves for their actual opponents.

“So how did you get all the way here?” Sakusa's hand is resting on top of the wooden shoe rack, and Iizuna remembers to invite him in.

“Well, I used to live in Tokyo with my teammate.” Iizuna purses his lips. Unprompted, a film roll of memories unwinds in his mind until it reaches the pit of his stomach, coiling and uncoiling there until the end of time. “Until... you know what happened.” He tries to smile up at Sakusa, who's looking at him intently. “Don't tell me about it. I know. You don't have to say anything. I get it.” The smile comes out weak, tight-throated, but Sakusa doesn't even say a word.

“Well, okay.” Sakusa looks back up. “What are you waiting for?”

Iizuna blinks up at him, mouth still agape, until he remembers what Sakusa even came all the way here for. His apartment, duh. It wasn't him that Sakusa came to visit. “Oh, let me show you around then.”

Sakusa nods at him. “Thank you, senpai.”

“Senpai, huh.” Iizuna flashes Sakusa a fond smile, at which the other boy rolls his eyes. “I don't think you ever even called me senpai when we were still in high school.”

That day, Iizuna offers Sakusa a peach. Sweet and round and perfect all the way down, even when he slices it with a dull paring knife. It feels like it would wobble in his palm when he holds it as though it's a sentient being. He looks at Sakusa as he tilts the peach in his hand up to his mouth and takes a small, calculated bite and wishes, in the back of his mind, that he could taste just how sweet the same peach is. Iizuna had dreamt about those hands before, had spent his waking hours thinking about how Sakusa's mouth would taste like on his own. Younger and more naive and curly-haired and sweet-faced Sakusa Kiyoomi who had just called him senpai and stands in his home.

—

It had been months since Sakusa officially moved in and signed the lease to their apartment. In spite of having known him all his life and having seen his face more than five days a week back in high school, Iizuna often finds himself looking at Sakusa every now and then. It takes him back all the way to his years of high school where he had spent much of his time daydreaming about Sakusa's face and calloused hands and bendy wrists and full-spin spikes. Back then, in high school where everything went his way, it did not seem too far from reality that Sakusa would look at him back and see the world. He used to have all of the hallmarks of a setter's pride back then. He had believed his strong features would allow him to carry all of the skill he had in just one body without ever going down sick or ever getting any major injuries. He had been equipped with a wide back and broad set of shoulders then. He had felt almost invincible then.

Still, his knee had knocked him down a notch and now he's stuck here in front of his kitchen counter, looking at Sakusa Kiyoomi like he had hung up the stars in the sky. Maybe, just maybe, Sakusa would look back at him again and see something in the depth of his eyes that would make him do a double take. He had found himself staring so hard at the back of Sakusa's neck that, as if sensing that a pair of eyes were on him, Sakusa whipped his head around.

His eyebrows pinched with confusion as he looked back at Iizuna. Exasperation, maybe? Then, the realization hits him. Curiosity.

—

Iizuna finds himself kissing Sakusa Kiyoomi more than just a few times in the duration of his stay in his apartment. Sakusa had been a little drunk the first time, although he had insisted that he was tipsy. And so, holding a glass of warm plum-infused wine each, a bowl of wasabi potato chips and two peaches bought from the market just two blocks away from their apartment, they had kissed and found themselves getting much drunker on the taste of each other's lips more than any other liquor. Sakusa's a good kisser when he's drunk. Iizuna knows this well enough. It would be great to kiss him sober.

—

It is a grand understatement to say that Iizuna is just a little bit more than surprised to see Sakusa climbing into their shared apartment at one o' clock in the morning, holding nothing but his bag and phone. Of course, Iizuna is understandably startled when Sakusa makes the way up the stairs to his room and flops himself up on the bed. Sure, they have been in each other's rooms once or twice before, but it isn't the same. Not when Iizuna can name the feeling that he gets in his throat whenever he flashes a small smile at him every once in a while, the shiver creeping up his spine whenever he looks at him.

Sakusa lumbers into the room, his hand gripping the door knob so tight that Iizuna is a little afraid, although it is an irrational thought, that it would come off. The sharp smell of alcohol wafts into the air. It smells a little like warm whiskey, although it's a bit hard to identify since Iizuna has not been out drinking for several years now. The athlete's diet makes it hard for him to revert back to drinking every weekend in a random izakaya down the street, even though he quit volleyball long ago. It's something that sticks with him even up until now. It's a small beacon of hope that things just might get better and that his knee just might heal and all of the things that he wants just might want him back. In time, maybe, things will be better. But now there's nothing to do but accept things the way they are as of now.

He looks up at the doorway and sees Sakusa struggling to hold his own body up. It seems to him that Sakusa had gotten himself drunk. No shit, the passing thought in Iizuna's thought goes. His roommate is dangerously close to being blackout drunk and his best thought is to wonder if he's drunk. And so, he staggers toward the door, trying to catch Sakusa in his arms just before he falls. He catches the almost sensual scent of sweat and lemon detergent as he leans in.

“Sakusa,” Iizuna says, sounding a little startled as he takes in the other boy's disheveled appearance. “What had taken you so long?”

Iizuna looks Sakusa up and down as he approaches him, possibly half past drunk. The collar of his button-down is rumpled around the corners, so unlike his normal fastidious self. A few buttons have come undone, revealing a sliver of his pale skin. His skin shines like moonlight under the pale yellow strobe lights, making him look like nothing less than godly. Empyreal, even. The parallel constellation of moles on his forehead is the exact same match as the ones dotting on his chest.A passing glint of silver circling around Sakusa's wrist— his watch, maybe— catches Iizuna's eye as it shines in the light.

Concern tinges Iizuna's expression now, his brows furrowed as he thinks about how the events had led to each other. Of how Sakusa could have possibly gotten drunk, of how he could have possibly driven himself home. “How did you get all the way home?” Iizuna asks, struggling to conjure a list of Sakusa's teammates who would be willing to drive a whole hour downtown in the middle of the night to make sure he gets home safe. “Who took you home?” It's curiosity now, plain and simple, when he asks who took him home.

To which Sakusa replies with a careless shrug, lying on his bed, slurring his words, “Atsumu. I think. I don't care.” Atsumu, huh. It's Atsumu now. Hadn't it been Miya for months? Hadn't it always been Miya when he was sober? A slow-forming lump in Iizuna's throat builds up as he thinks about the monster setter from the MSBY Black Jackals, whom he is not exactly what you would call very fond of and whom he is pretty sure has something to do with the bouquets of roses and lavenders that have been arriving in Iizuna and Sakusa's shared apartment for a few weeks now. “I don't know.”

Iizuna concedes then. “Okay,” he says, his eyes still trained on the other boy as he slips off his leather shoes and replacing them with a pair of house slippers. “I'm glad you got home safe.” Iizuna has to remind himself to tear his gaze away from Sakusa's nimble fingers as they move toward the front of his pants, letting them rest just on top of the zipper to pull it down. “I can get you a glass of water...?”

“Iizuna-san.” The name comes slow from Sakusa’s lips, like he has been rolling it over his tongue and under the ridges of his teeth. And Iizuna knows all too well that if words had a taste, his name, all three syllables of his name would taste like honey coming from the other boy's mouth. It would taste like honey— sweet, sweet honey straight from the bee, when he leans in and kisses him. “I thought you’d like it if I dressed up a little more tonight.” Adds, as if he's relishing in the heat of Iizuna’s curious gaze, “And it's all for you.”

Iizuna heaves a sigh as he looks at Sakusa, his hands on his hips as he stands with his knee propped up on the edge of his bed. “You are driving me insane, Sakusa.” He looks at Sakusa again now, his eyes burning as if he has been staring at the sun for too long, his skin set ablaze as if he has been standing in the aftermath of a fire. “One of these days I just know you'll succeed. One of these days you're going to drive me off the rails and I’m afraid that I just might let you.”

The obligatory moment of silence that Sakusa allows himself to have before speaking follows. As if he's recollecting his thoughts as he reclines his back against the headboard. Then, Iizuna watches as Sakusa smirks, the corners of his lips tugged upward. Iizuna follows the trajectory of his eyes until it drops to his lips. “Show me, then.” Iizuna has to swallow down the lump in his throat. “Let me, then.”

“What?” Iizuna splutters, his head spinning, his mind overwhelmed. Sakusa looks at him and beckons him to come a step closer toward him, and Iizuna can registers the faint smell of lavender the moment Sakusa closes the distance between them, all bleary half-lidded eyes and pink parted mouth. There's the smell of eucalyptus oil, too. He traces its tantalizing scent down to the inside of Sakusa’s damp buttondown. It’s tantalizing as he breathes it all in. It lures him in and he just wants to press his nose to his fragrance. “Show you what?”

“Show me how you want me, Iizuna-san.” Sakusa lets his arms sling around Iizuna's neck, pulling him closer. His movements are tantalizingly, achingly, teasingly slow. “Tell me how you want me.”

All kinds of thoughts flood Iizuna's mind and it feels like all of his blood is rushing southward. He wills himself to keep steady, but his breathing comes in rushed, jagged puffs of air. It almost feels like he is running out of breath. “Sakusa,” he says. The word tumbles out of Iizuna's mouth like it's a prayer, breathed in an unmistakable reverence. “What are you doing to me? You're going to drive me insane.”

“Oh, why don't you show me what insane feels like.” Sakusa leans in, coming so close to Iizuna that he can feel his breath hovering just millimeters over his mouth. The distance reduces so slowly that Iizuna feels like Sakusa is pulling him into a trance. His heart hitches, rising up his throat. “Show me what insane tastes like.” He leans in to press a kiss on the corner of Iizuna’s mouth, his breath warm.

“God, Sakusa.” Iizuna stifles an oncoming moan as Sakusa presses a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, his sharp teeth nipping at the soft skin. Sakusa's lips travel further down to kiss his shoulder blade, the straight line of teeth tracing the area of soft skin.

“Oh god, Sakusa.” Sakusa, Sakusa, Sakusa. “When have you gotten so good with your mouth? When did you get so good with...” Iizuna can't even get the words out because Sakusa is kissing him so softly and so hard and touching him so gently and so roughly, all at the same time. His hands are all over him. His mouth is pressing kisses to every single part of his body. It's all too much for a man to take.

Sakusa spares him a second as he catches his breath. “This is okay, right?” He runs his finger over the skin of Iizuna's collar bone. “I'm going to bite here, Iizuna-san.” He kisses it so gently that for a moment, Iizuna feels like he only imagined his mouth. “Is that okay?”

It's okay. It's all so okay, Iizuna wants to say. There's so much more that I want you do to me, but I can't let you do that. He watches as Sakusa's gaze drops further and further down, the heat of his eyes radiating toward the front of his pants. So much more I want from you. “It's okay.” And now Sakusa is leaving lovebites all over his skin, like he wants to mark Iizuna's whole body as something of his. He sinks his teeth down every part of his body, almost hard enough to draw blood. Iizuna fears that maybe, just maybe, he will let him.

“This is mine,” Sakusa says as he hovers his mouth against Iizuna's chest. He travels further to kiss the rivering lines of Iizuna's abs and rests his hand on the small of Iizuna's back. “This is mine too.” He continues to kiss Iizuna all over until he finally slinks down low to his knees, face to face with the front of Iizuna's sweatpants. “I want this one too, Iizuna-san.” His breath is hot against the soft fabric and it takes all of Iizuna not to rake his fingers through Sakusa's curls and push his head toward his cock. “I want to kiss you here.”

“Sakusa, are you sure about this?” Iizuna says, half breathless as he spares a glance at the younger man's state. His typically neat, styled curls have become dishevelled to the point that hair gel would fail to salvage it. His button-down has ridden so far up his chest. “You're— you're drunk. The alcohol might just be getting to your head. I don't want to take advantage of you or something.” He tries to convince himself to pull away from Sakusa's grasp. “I want to make sure that you're thinking straight before we do anything else.”

“I haven't been thinking straight for the past few days 'cause I keep thinking about you. Sakusa wraps his arms around Iizuna's waist. He allows Iizuna to thread his fingers along the course of Sakusa's hair, tugging against his soft locks. “I have been dying for a taste.”

If Sakusa was a god, albeit one with a completely black unreadable stare and his face completely covered with the pleats of a white face mask over his nose bridge, then Iizuna wants to commit sacrilege. A moment passes between them before Iizuna whispers, “Okay then.”

“Iizuna-san,” Sakusa whispers, his breath still ghosting over the soft gray cotton. He's looking at Iizuna calmly, intently, through the flutter of his dark eyelashes. “I want to suck you off.” The words come out a surprise. It feels almost unholy, almost unnatural to hear that shocking set of lewd, obsence words in such a gentle, delicate tone.

Iizuna struggles to catch his breath. “Sakusa.” He exhales sharply as all of his blood floods in his ears and toward his lower body. His sweatpants form a tent around the front, the soft fabric bunching up as his cock swells with delirious pleasure. “Don't— don't say that.”

“But, Iizuna-san.” There's something about the quiet reverence and respect of Sakusa uttering his senpai's name contrasted by the dirty words falling off his mouth that makes Iizuna want to hide his face in fear. There's something about it that makes Iizuna lose his breath, lose his footing. “I want to kiss you here, senpai. Want to kiss here.”

Iizuna can't help but nod his head yes. An act born out of almost primal desperation. His head is spinning and his cock is swelling in his pants so much that he could already feel the knot in his stomach, but it would have been embarrassing to come untouched in front of the younger boy, who's looking up at Iizuna with such dark, eager eyes.

Sakusa presses his cheek to the fabric of Iizuna's sweatpants, their body heat swirling between them. He uses his skillful fingers to tug at his waistband and pull it down mid-thigh to expose Iizuna's cock standing in full attention. “Oh, you didn't wear your boxers today...” He pauses to look up through his eyelashes. “Cheeky, aren't you?”

Iizuna's face flushes at this. A flurry of excuses conjure out of thin air in his mind, but he decides to tell the truth. “I forgot to do the laundry.” He smiles sheepishly at Sakusa. “I was able to do yours an hour ago, though. Don't worry about it. And I sleep without underwear anyway, because I didn't think you would come home early.”

Sakusa smiles a little in appreciation, before spitting right into his palm and rubbing his hands together. He takes Iizuna's cock in one hand, stroking it slowly until he hears Iizuna choke out a moan. The sound comes out muffled from the back of Iizuna's throat. “You're liking this aren't you?” He strokes his cock a few more times before speeding up the pace at which his hand is moving up and down.

Iizuna drops his gaze to watch as Sakusa lets his free hand wander mindlessly down to his own, giving it a long stroke every now and then. “Ah fuck, Sakusa.” His knees nearly buckle as Sakusa finally, finally wraps his mouth around him. His lips are pink and soft, even softer than he could have ever imagined them to be. “So, so good.”

Iizuna parts his knees further to accomodate for Sakusa. He wills himself to keep his hips steady as Sakusa dips his head even lower in front of him to run the soft flap of his tongue over the head of his cock. “Sakusa, I—” Almost instinctually, he bucks his hips up to the rhythm of Sakusa's head bobbing up and down his cock. Iizuna lets his fingers curl around the dark of Sakusa's hair. “Please, I can't— ” His words come out unsteady and his breath comes out shaky as Sakusa hollows his cheeks around his cock. “Slow down, please.”

Sakusa smiles around his cock, but he goes even faster than before. He licks a long stripe up his length and Iizuna arches his back at the sensation of it all. He finds himself having to muffle his sounds with his palms because he doesn't want to be too loud for other people to be able to hear through their thin walls, because it's not like he wants people to hear the two of them fucking shamelessly just a few doors away. Sakusa lets himself close his teeth around the rougher area of Iizuna's cock where he feels just a little thicker than the other parts, but only ever so gently, so softly enough not to hurt him.

Iizuna hides his face behind his hands in embarrassment and feels Sakusa frown around him. Sakusa pulls away for a moment to say, “Iizuna-san, don't cover your face.” He strokes his cock as he tries to wrap his mouth around it once more, the sensation driving Iizuna all the way down to hell. Good Lord, where has his faith gone? “Senpai, don't do that.” He leaves a short line of warm kisses up the length of Iizuna's member. “I want to see you when you come.”

“Oh fuck, Sakusa—” Iizuna feels tears prick at his eyelids when he looks down at Sakusa and sees him trying to take all of him down his throat. In this light, Sakusa looks nothing else but ethereal, even when Iizuna's hands are pushing his head further down and almost choking him. Pale yellow light bounces off the angles of Sakusa's face as he gives his head and it's all so blinding. It's all so beautiful. He wipes his tears away with the back of his hand almost as quickly as they came. “You're doing so good— you're being so good.”

Sakusa pulls away again, wiping his mouth with a swift movement of the back of his hand and opens his mouth to speak. “Senpai, are you close yet?” He bats his eyelashes up at Iizuna, looking as hot, as beautiful as he possibly can with a cock in his hand and his forehead damp with sweat, his mouth still parted. “Are you going to come?”

Right there, right then, Iizuna feels the sudden urge to release all of his load down his throat, although it might seem rude to someone like Sakusa who's typically so fussy about getting himself messy. “I want to hear you come.” He strokes his cock again, faster and faster. “I— I want to see you when you come, Iizuna-san.” He kisses it all over, almost desperate. “I want you to come in my mouth, please.”

Iizuna's knees buckle with the way Sakusa's on his knees, almost begging for him to come in his throat. His body's been shaking all this time and his hands have gotten so jittery, almost like he's on a sugar rush, almost like he's intoxicated with the feeling of Sakusa's mouth wrapped around him. And so, with just one last long stroke of his cock, Iizuna releases down Sakusa's throat. Sakusa tries to lap all of his salt-simmered load up with his tongue, licking at the sticky white substance that lingers on the skin of Iizuna's inner thighs. He licks his lips one last time, relishing in the warmth, the stickiness of Iizuna's come and god, god, Iizuna has never felt any more sinful.

Sakusa lies back on the bed and Iizuna joins him. A night of fucking and a night of kissing is all it takes for Iizuna to learn that Sakusa taste like sweet, sweet honey on his tongue. If Sakusa's mouth is the food of the gods, then his face was hand-crafted by Hephaestus and his body was sculpted by Aphrodite. He tastes like ambrosia, tastes like honey straight from the bee. He tastes like the nectar of a whole sweep of flowers, plain and simple, yet always sweet, so sweet.

—

Sakusa stirs in his sleep. “Iizuna-san?” he says, looking for him. He has waited for this moment all this time, to be the one that Sakusalooks for in the mornings. “Iizuna-san, are you still there?”

Sakusa sounds almost weak, almost fragile that Iizuna feels his heart waver. Iizuna kisses his forehead. “I'll always be right here.”


End file.
